Brendan Perry has finally scheduled a gig vaguely close to our home, 35 km from here, to be precise.

It’s at the Summer Darkness festival in Utrecht on 13th August, a date that will require some planning to meet, given that it’s in the middle of the school summer holiday.

The concert will be in the Domkerk, a church that should provide a paradoxically fitting atmosphere for Perry’s existential musings.

The festival organisers have taken the unusual, but very welcome step of issuing single performance tickets for his show. Usually, you’d require a day ticket or a whole festival ticket to attend, but it’s now possible to pay for and see only Brendan’s gig, which is a terrific concession to his fans. I wonder if the artist had anything to do with this arrangement. If so, it could mean that no other gigs are planned for this country, so it’s a case of seizing the opportunity now, for there may not be another.

This was the third and final gig that Brendan would be playing in Ireland to promote his new album, Ark. It was to be arguably the best of the three.

The Róisín Dubh is a traditional Irish pub with a music venue in a second room at the back, on the canal side. Like the city in which it’s located, it has plenty of character and this boded well for the gig ahead.

When I arrived, the band were still doing the soundcheck. Even from the other room, I could tell that the sound was going to be good tonight.

Rónán Ó Snodaigh, one-time Dead Can Dance performer and founding member of Kila, was filling the support slot again, as in Dublin. He took to the stage at about 21:15 and performed an improvised set, playing the bodhrán and singing.

Before the gig, he told me that he doesn’t decide what he’s going to play until it’s time to play it and, as he prepared to play, he dropped a beer mat in front of himself, bearing a set list that he had quickly scribbed together at the bar. Class.

The man is a born entertainer and his performance, steeped in humorous banter, brought a smile to everyone’s face. He more than warmed up the crowd for Brendan, who was only a few minutes behind and arrived on stage at 22:00.

I’d estimate that here were about 150 to 200 people present; a similar showing to Cork, anyway. As I looked around, I saw a number of people who looked as if they were at the wrong gig, including a contingent of young, scantily clad Polish women. No-one could get in without a ticket, though, so they must have come to the right place.

The set list was the same as on the previous two nights. The only difference was that Brendan didn’t take any chances with Severance and opted to play it as the last song of the first (and thus only) encore. In Dublin and Cork, the audience had failed to respond with the appropriate enthusiasm after the first encore and, in the latter city, it had cost them Severance.

Ironically, Galway was the one place where the audience did clap and cheer for more, but it was in vain, because the full set had already been played.

The crowd in Galway were very enthusiastic, compensating for their diminutive number with rapturous applause and cheering. A few people even danced during the second half of the set, which was as amusing as it was unexpected.

Spirit was once again the high point of the evening for me. It really grooved along and it was all I could do to stop myself from dancing (which wouldn’t have done the recording any favours). Just feel that pounding rhythm in the section where Peter Sheridan kicks in with the tambourine.

This brought my three day stint in Ireland, following the band, to a close. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience and am left craving more.

If you are thinking of going to see Brendan at one of his upcoming shows, I strongly suggest that you give in to the temptation. You’ll be in for a real treat. Beg, borrow or steal to make it happen.

As in Cork, the sound in Galway was excellent, much better than in Dublin. Brendan has a fine sound engineer in the person of David Badrick.

I recorded the concert and it is now available on DIME.

I’d like to say a huge thank you to Brendan for his liberal, generous and enlightened attitude regarding fan recordings. Your generosity towards your fans is much appreciated.

This was the second of Brendan’s three gigs in Ireland and a big improvement on Dublin, the night before.

There was no support act this evening, so the doors didn’t open until 21:00. Happily, the Pavilion has a downstairs bar, so there was a good place to sit, drink and chat before the gig.

Brendan was still doing the soundcheck when I got there at 19:30. I could hear the muffled strains of Wintersun emanating through the walls of the venue into the alley outside.

The big man came downstairs at about 20:30 and invited me and another fan to sit with him at his table outside. We talked a little about the previous night’s Dublin gig.

Graham Wood, sleeve designer of Ark, was also there, so I got to hear a little about his involvement in the project. He mentioned that the retail version of Ark will have different sleeve artwork to the tour edition.

At 21:15, it was time for Brendan to get ready for the gig and for me to find a suitable vantage point for viewing and recording the gig.

The Pavilion is a very nice venue. It’s quite small, but not nearly as small as Dublin’s Crawdaddy. On the other hand, it was more than half-empty this evening. I’d estimate that there were no more than 150 to 200 people there; perhaps even fewer.

The venue has a raised perimeter that is home to high tables and bar stools. Down on the dance floor, there are yet more tables and chairs, again at the edges.

Amazingly, this meant that when Brendan and co. took to the stage at 21:45, there was no-one standing anywhere near the stage. People were sitting at the various tables, sipping drinks, or standing at the back of the dance floor, a good 15 to 20 metres away.

Usually, one must jockey for position at the front of a gig, but tonight, no-one wanted to be anywhere near the stage. Hardly anyone even wanted to stand up. Bizarre.

The sound was much, much better than in Dublin. The audience were appreciative and respectful, but not effusive. You could have heard a pin drop between songs. In fact, if you put on headphones whilst listening to the recording, you can probably hear my heartbeat: that’s how quiet it was.

I sat on the far right, along the raised edge, on a bar stool about two metres back from the hanging PA. Ideally, I would have stepped back another couple of metres to be in the direct firing line of the PA, but there was furniture in the way.

It turns out to have made very little difference. The quality of the recording rivals and arguably surpasses that of the Brussels gig I captured back in March.

Brendan’s guitar shines through particularly well on this recording. A Passage In Time has never sounded better and just listen to the ending of The Arcane.

Although we were treated to a complete rendition of Voyage Of Bran this evening, we lost Severance from the set.

Once again, the audience fell silent as the band exited the stage after Spirit. There was no clapping, cheering or stamping of feet. It was like a library in there.

Why do Irish audiences not expect and/or desire more than one encore? I really don’t know.

Anyway, this time Brendan wasn’t giving away any gifts. Encores are the earned reward of an enthusiastic audience and, despite their warm appreciation of the main set, they were decidedly lacklustre in demanding the band’s return to play yet another song. If you don’t ask, you don’t get; and we didn’t ask, so we didn’t get.

Within a few minutes of the lights coming back on, the place started to fill up with people considerably younger than me. The venue was performing double duty that evening, once for Brendan and now as the host of the Chic afterparty. Scantily clad twenty-something women invaded the space and rammed painfully home just how long it’s been since I was a twenty-something man.

Brendan emerged from the shadows after a while and we had a chat. He was happy with the gig, but lamented that the audience hadn’t been bigger. He also remarked how strange it is that Irish audiences don’t seem to care about getting more than one encore.

The highlight of tonight’s concert for me was Spirit. Brendan seemed to put a lot of emotion into the performance and the sound was perfect. The bass and keyboards really made the song pound along and it was a great moment to finish on.

Musically, the band were also in better form than the night before. In fact, the only thing wrong with tonight’s show was that it wasn’t completely sold out and packed to the gills.

Plane, train, car or boat, get yourself to one of this man’s upcoming gigs.

I recorded the concert and it is now available on DIME.

I thought I’d post a review of the Irish gigs I went to last week.

Brendan Perry had scheduled three gigs in Ireland for the second stage of his 2010 tour to promote his new album, Ark.

For me, it was a great opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. I could fly to Ireland, attend three great gigs and get to see family, too. After 25 years of watching Brendan play live, he practically feels like family, anyway.

This was the first of the three gigs and my anticipation was running high.

The gig had been scheduled to take place in the 1300 capacity Tripod, but the decision was made on the day to move it to the 300 capacity Crawdaddy. The obvious suspicion of disappointing ticket sales was confirmed by venue staff. Apparently, the gig had received almost no promotion and even the posters advertising it had only been put up around Dublin the week before.

Crawdaddy is a tiny room with poor ventilation, so it heats up quickly. The stage is very low, below knee height. People were taking photographs of the set list before the band had even come on stage and I could see from my vantage point that the set list was to be the same as during stage one of the tour, with the addition of one new song.

The tiny venue made the experience like a living-room concert. We were packed in, right up to the front of the stage and the band’s feet were mere centimetres away.

The PA was small and didn’t project the sound very far, requiring that I stand much closer to the speaker than I normally would. The venue was so tightly packed that it would have been hard to stand in a better place, anyway.

The support act was Kila member and ex-Dead Can Dance percussionist, Rónán Ó Snodaigh, who played the bodhrán and talked to the audience, making for a very enjoyable performance somewhere between music and stand-up comedy.

With the crowd suitably warmed up by Rónán, Brendan came on stage smiling and the band launched into The Arcane. I was struck by how little space the band had in which to play. They were standing elbow to elbow across the stage. New keyboard player, Astrid Williamson, was barely visible to anyone standing in the right half of the room, obscured as she was by the PA and a large monitor speaker.

Astrid started to play You Never Loved This City at the wrong point in the set. Brendan sang a couple of lines before he realised the mistake and then abandoned it, causing someone in the audience to remark, “He is human!”, which made everyone laugh.

After This Boy came the brand new song, Tree Of Life, followed by You Never Loved This City proper.

The greatest surprise of the evening came during Voyage Of Bran, the first song of the encore, when Brendan stopped singing, glared at someone in the audience and said, “Shut the fuck up!”

Apparently, a couple of people had been chatting during the song and this had really needled him. With the audience and band almost rubbing noses, it must have been impossible to ignore the chattering.

Unfortunately, he didn’t restart the song, so only about half of it was played this time.

After Spirit, the final song of the first encore, the band left the stage. The crowd fell strangely silent and people started to file out of the room, even though the house lights remained off. Don’t Irish audiences expect or want more than one encore? There was no cheering, clapping or stamping of feet.

I knew from previous gigs on stage one of the tour (and from the set list in front of me) that Severance was yet to come, so I held my ground. I, for one, wanted more.

Suddenly, the band reappeared and people rushed back into the room. It was another strange moment. I heard afterwards that the venue’s security even prevented some people from reentering, presumably because the gig was considered over.

The band must have been a bit bemused by the apparent apathy. They left the stage without further addressing the audience and the evening’s business was concluded.

Musically, the band were in good form and newcomer Astrid seemed to have slotted right into her niche. She grooved from left to right behind the keyboards and provided a welcome distraction from the more static figures around her.

I recorded the concert and it is now available on DIME.